Father Confessor
by Zarthor563
Summary: When Darken Rahl sent the Mord-Sith to Valeria after the male Confessor,they killed everyone there when they failed to aqcuire the child. Years pass and rumors of a male Confessor begin anew.
1. Death By Fire

** Father Confessor**

**A/N: Please review, this is my first fanfic.**

Synopsis: When Darken Rahl learned that a male Confessor lived on Valeria, he sent the Mord-Sith to retrieve him. But the Confessors there refused to relinquish the child. In their anger, the Mord-Sith slew every Confessor on the island. Years pass, a new Lord Rahl reigns over D'Hara, and rumors of a male Confessor begin anew…

* * *

CHAPTER ONE: DEATH BY FIRE

_The cottage was engulfed in flames. Dennee could barely breathe as she ran, trying to find an exit that was not ringed with fire; she couldn't see through the thick haze of smoke. The baby in her arms cried louder, shaking his tiny, balled fists; he was scared. After another second or so of desperate twists and turns through the fiery maze, she made it outside. She cradled the crying child._

"_Hush now, little one," Dennee cooed to him. "Hush."_

"_My lady!" Tom came running towards Dennee and the baby, the day's catch slung across his back. He had been fishing in a river not too far from the cottage._

"_My lady, are you hurt? Why are you crying?"_

"_I'm fine Tom," Dennee told him. "Tom, they've come for him. We cannot let them take him." She hands the child to Tom. "Take him into the woods, and kill him."_

_Tom stared at Dennee for a moment, but finally answered, "Yes, Confessor."He turned and ran in the direction he'd come from; he did not look back. Dennee watched Tom go until he disappeared from her sight._

"_Where is the child?" Dennee turned. Out of the burning cottage emerged two stunningly beautiful women. Each was clad in dark red leather: they were Mord-Sith, the elite within the elite of the Lord Rahl's servants. One of the Mord-Sith, the blond one, stepped forward and struck Dennee so hard she drew blood._

"_I asked you a question," the Mord-Sith said calmly, casually, as though this were all routine to her. Dennee said nothing. She stared at the Mord-Sith, daring her to strike again, which she did. Dennee crumpled to the ground._

"_You won't get anything out of her that way, Cara," the other Mord-Sith said, leaning casually on a tree._

"_Where is he?" Cara asked again, ignoring her companion._

_Dennee smiled. "He is dead! Killed by the fire you set! Tell that to your Lord Rahl!" _

_The last thing __Dennee felt was the pain of Cara's agiel._

"Mother!" Vincent screamed as he woke. He sighed. _Just a dream,_ he thought. _But it was so vivid…_he groaned in pain, his head throbbed.

"Is something wrong, child?" Vincent relaxed at the sound of the voice.

"The little baby is crying for his mommy!" another voice said.

"**Be quiet, Samuel!"** Samuel cringed at the simultaneous reprimand.

"I am fine, Shota," Vincent told her. "Just a bad dream."

"Very well, if you need anything, you know where to find me." With that, Shota left Vincent's room, with Samuel trailing after her.

Vincent got up and stretched. He'd been having the dream more often of late. When he told Shota about it(as he tells her everything), she had said that it was a repressed memory, trying to resurface.

"Embrace your memories, child," she had told him. "Never forget who you are."

_But how can I forget?_ Vincent thought bitterly. _How can I, when the curse of my ancestry is burned into my very soul? I am Vincent Amnell. I am a Confessor._


	2. Purpose

CHAPTER TWO: PURPOSE

Vincent tugged on his gloves. While they did not hinder his power, if he ever chose to release it, it helped remind him that it was there, that he must always be careful.

"You are different from other Confessors in only one respect," Shota had told him once. "Normally, a Confessor's power is conscious. They are constantly aware of its presence, and they expend exhaustive amounts of conscious effort to control it. While it is part of them, it is also separate."

"But _your_ power, Vincent, is instinctive. You are bonded to the magic in ways a female Confessor can never be."

"I do not understand, Shota," Vincent had said.

"Must you constantly tell yourself to breathe?" Shota asked. "No. Your body does that for you, by _instinct._ Your power works in much the same way as war wizard's does. You need not consciously call upon it to use it, and that is what makes you dangerous. You never sense your power's presence, because it is truly part of you; there is no distinction between it and yourself."

"They are right to fear me," Vincent said. "Why did you save me? Why didn't you let me die?"

"Tom could not have killed you," Shota said. He had tried once before, and failed. Your mother's hold on him was weak; he was partially protected by his love for her. This allowed him to interpret her orders differently." Vincent raised an eyebrow.

"Tom knew your mother loved you, and could not bear to lose you. He lived, he _existed_, to please your mother. Nothing would please her more than to know that you were alive and free. But her command weighed heavily on him; he was torn between what he knew she _wanted,_ and what she had _ordered._"

"Then a Confessor's power is not absolute?" Vincent asked, hope evident in his voice.

"No, but it is permanently damaging. Even if you could free someone from your power, they would never truly be the same."

"But they would be free," Vincent said softly, more to himself than to her.

Shota looked at him with sad eyes. "With my gift, I was able to see the carnage the Mord-Sith inflicted. I saw Dennee tell the man she loved to kill her son. I traveled to Valeria as fast I as could and convinced Tom to give you to me. In his state of mind, it was not difficult."

"But why?"

Shota was silent for a moment, then answered, **"Because you were born for a purpose, Vincent Amnell. You were born to kill Aaron Rahl."**

* * *

Vincent paid the vendor two copper coins for the apple, and turned on to the main street. He did not know where he was going, but he didn't care, as long as it was far from Agaden Reach. How could Shota expect him to kill his own cousin? The boy was barely a year old, and the only family he had left, even if the Mother Confessor and her husband had no idea of his existence.

_Shota was wrong that day,_ Vincent thought. _I do have a destiny, but not the one she wants for me._ He thought of Emily, and determination filled him to his core. _I will find a way to release the Confessed from the magic, so all the innocents whose lives have been destroyed can live again; that is my only purpose._


	3. Blood Ties

**A/N: I know the books say that Richard is Darken Rahl's son, but I used the show's version and made them brothers, simply because if Vincent and Richard were blood brothers, Richard's relationship with Kahlan would be just the _tinniest bit_ weird and I would probably have to change the rating. NinjaSheik and kellentia, thank you guys for reviewing, it means a lot.**

CHAPTER THREE: BLOOD TIES

A golden ball of light floated around the bedroom. Aaron laughed and pointed as the light zoomed past his crib.

"What are you doing?" Zedd turned around to see a smiling Richard framed in the doorway.

"Just having a little fun with my great-grandson," he replied, turning his attention back to the ball of light. With a flick of Zedd's finger, it stopped just over Aaron's crib. Cooing and laughing, little Aaron stood, using the crib for support. His arm reached out to grab the light, but it zoomed away again, and he fell. Aaron began to cry.

"You're a horrible old man," Richard said, laughing as he strode into the room and picked Aaron up.

"Who, me?" Zedd asked innocently. With a flick of his wrist, the ball of light transformed into Aaron's favorite doll; he stopped crying when he saw it.

"There, now child," Zedd said, handing him the doll. Aaron laughed as he swung it around.

Richard smiled at his son. "So when does Kahlan get back?" he asked Zedd.

"Hard to say," Zedd replied. "After all, the post of Mother Confessor can be very demanding. Especially now, seeing as she's the last one."

Richard thought for a moment. "Pack your bags, Zedd," he said as he left the room with his son in his arms. **"We're going to Aydindril."**

* * *

_Vincent was nine; his birthday was tomorrow , and Shot- Leanne had promised him something really special. A knock came at the door, and Vincent came rushing down the stairs._

"_Emily!" Vincent screamed with delight when he opened the door._

"_Hello Vincent," Emily said, smiling. "Are you ready for your birthday tomorrow?"_

_Vincent nodded. "Leanne got the cake and everything!"_

"_Why do you call her Leanne?"_

_Vincent looked confused. "That's her name." He smiled; he was nervous, but he was also very excited. He took Emily by the hand; her eyes glossed over, but Vincent did not notice. He led her to his room. He took a locket out of his sock drawer and gave it to her. Emily didn't say anything._

"_Do you like it?" Vincent asked. No answer. "Please tell me you like it."_

"_I like it," Emily said, but her voice had a dead quality to it. Did he… no, he could not have…there was no boom, no thunder without sound. Besides, he would have felt it if it had happened, right? He would be tired, exhausted. He looked into Emily's eyes: their spark was gone._

_Vincent began to cry. "Emily, I'm going downstairs. I want you to stay here, okay? Don't move."_

**"_Yes, Confessor."_**

"_Shota!" Vincent screamed as he sprinted out of his room. _

Vincent woke up with a throbbing headache. He fingered the locket around his neck. _I will find a way to save you, Emily,_ he thought. _I promise._

Vincent left the night's pay on the innkeeper's desk. The man was confessed. Vincent hated doing it, but it was necessary: he had asked too many questions.

"Have a horse ready for me when I return," Vincent told the innkeeper.

"Yes, Confessor."

_Aydindril,_ Vincent thought as he left the inn. _Home to the Wizard's Keep and the Confessors' Palace._ Of the two, only the former held any interest for him. The Wizard's Keep holds countless books of magic. If there was a way to counter the magic of a Confessor, he would find it in the Keep, he was sure of it.

Vincent passed many D'Haran soldiers as he walked. He was not surprised; with all of the Midlands now under D'Haran rule, there was bound to be more of them. Especially here, where the Lord Rahl's wife presided at the Confessor's Palace.

_How did he do it?_ Vincent wondered. _How did he marry, how could he love a Confessor, yet remain immune to her power?_

The Wizard's Keep grew closer with every step.

_Not that I could ever ask him. He would probably kill me if learned of my existence. Richard Rahl; Ruler of D'Hara, brother to Darken Rahl… and my uncle._

Vincent passed by more D'Harans. But these D'Harans looked at him strangely, as though they knew him. Some went as far as to stop and put their right fist over their hearts: the customary salute to the Lord Rahl. This worried Vincent.

_Do I possess the bond? I must, they could not recognize me as a Rahl otherwise. Grr…the last thing I need is a power struggle between the Seeker and myself. Besides, I want nothing to do with anything that once belonged to my bastard of a father._

* * *

The Mother Confessor strolled into the inn. Everyone recognized her of course; a few of the patrons bowed their heads in respect, others up and left the inn completely.

"Hello, Barton," She said to the innkeeper kindly.

"Greetings, Mother Confessor," Barton said. "What brings you to my humble establishment?"

You petitioned for a confession a few days ago," Kahlan said. "I could not come earlier, but I am here now."

The Wizard's Keep had been heavily guarded, but Vincent got what he wanted nevertheless. He carried a heavy, leather-bound book in his left hand. He entered the inn, and stopped dead in his tracks. _The Mother Confessor is here. The wife to the Lord Rahl, my mother's sister… my aunt. I'd been hoping to avoid this._

She was speaking to the innkeeper, with her back to Vincent.

"I'm sorry you came all this way, Mother Confessor, but the issue has been resolved." Kahlan raised an eyebrow. Vincent cleared his throat, and Barton looked up.

"Ah, Lord Amnell, all is well, I trust?" Kahlan turned swiftly at this, and stared openly at Vincent.

Vincent, for his part, ignored Barton's question. "Have you prepared my horse?"

"Yes, **Confessor Amnell**, all is ready." And so Vincent left, leaving behind a stunned Kahlan.


	4. Father Confessor

CHAPTER FOUR: FATHER CONFESSOR

Vincent sat by a burning torch, the book set up before him: it was time for him to find his answer.

_Confessors: the Advent of Truth_

_Chapter One: Birth of the Confessor_

_Contrary to popular belief, Magda Searus was not the first Confessor; she was __**one**__ of the first. Male and female Confessors were created in tandem; the magic demanded that it be so. The power of the Confessor is a blending of Additive and Subtractive magic, though not in equal quantities. The female's power is mainly Additive, with but a small hint of Subtractive, accessible only through the Con Dar, the Confessor's Blood Rage._

_Male Confessors were gifted primarily with the darker, Subtractive side of the magic, with only a hint of the Additive. The Wizards of that age believed that only men possessed the strength necessary to resist its seductive properties, a belief held even by the common populace, in what was then a patriarchal society. A male Confessor does not possess Con Dar, there is no limit to his power. From the first to Confessors sprung many successors, and the Wizards were pleased: the Confessor line bred true. _

_Chapter Two: Fall of the Father_

_The first male Confessor, the Father Confessor, was a man named Erik Rahl; Both Wizard and Confessor, a combination that has not been seen since._

Vincent felt a shiver run down his spine. _Both Wizard and Confessor, a combination that has not been seen since._

_But now there are two,_ Vincent thought. _Two men with the powers of Confessor and Wizard: Aaron… and myself._ Now Vincent understood why Shota wanted him to kill his cousin. _With the gift from… my uncle… and the Confessor power from my aunt, he has the potential to destroy the world, should he ever turn. But I also possess both gifts. Do I not also possess the same potential for darkness? How am I any different from my cousin, or the Father Confessor, who ironically enough, was also a Rahl? Darkness, it seems, is the defining trait of our family._

Vincent continues reading.

_The blending of magics in the Lord Rahl was incomplete; his Confessor power was always at war with his wizard gift. This caused in the Lord Rahl a most violent change of spirits: bouts of excessive anger, fainting spells, splitting headaches, and horrific visions, until at last his mind was rendered completely unstable._

_Confessor Rahl sought the Wizard's help; he asked them to remove his Confessor power. Noting Erik's distressed state, his colleagues agreed._

Vincent was shocked. _He was not evil. He saw what he was becoming, and he tried to stop it; he was an honorable man._ Vincent found himself feeling pity for Erik Rahl… for his grandfather. He continued reading.

_In their quest to help their friend, the Wizards created the quillion, a device that could sap the power of both Wizards and Confessors._

_Confessor Rahl was summoned to the Wizards Keep and brought before the quillion. It began to sap his power, but it was too much for the quillion to contain. It shattered, and the power rushed back into the Lord Rahl with reckless intensity. When the transfer was complete, the Lord Rahl's eyes were coal black; his mind had surrendered to the magic, he was a slave to its will._

_Chapter Three: Female Sovereignty_

_Father Rahl gathered to himself all the other male confessors, by way of Confession. He abducted young girls, shattered their minds and trained them to be his elite guard: they were the first Mord-Sith. Together, the Father Confessor and his followers led the Midlands into an age of decadence and death._

_Hope came in the form of Magda Searus and the female Confessors, who showed remarkable restraint, resilience, and self-control in the face of their powers. The Mother Confessor confessed Father Rahl. At the Command of his mistress, he ordered all his followers to die. Erik Rahl was then executed. His brother, Panis, assumed rule in D'Hara._

_The Wizards decreed that only women would be Confessors from then on. Thus, the tradition of killing male offspring began. During the rule of the Mother Confessor, peace returned to the Midlands. Magda Sears was wise; she understood the consequences of abusing a magic that has no counter-_

Vincent threw the book against the wall in disgust. How can there be no counter? Richard Rahl loved a Confessor and remained free. That alone proved that a counter magic existed. Why then was it not written!?

_I will find a way,_ Vincent thought grimly. _I will._ Vincent stared at his gloved hands.

_Erik Rahl was not born evil; he was made so, seduced by his power. I will not let that happen to me, or my cousin._ Vincent knew what he had to do. He would ride to D'Hara and offer himself in service to his uncle. _If there is any decency in him, he will accept me. But first, I must journey to Aydindril, and return this book to where it belongs._

**

* * *

**

AYDINDRIL

Vincent returned the hose to the inn, and was intercepted by Barton's wife on the way out.

"Father Confessor," she said with reverence…and fear.

Vincent felt a tremor run through him at the mention of that title. He felt fulfilled. He pushed the feeling away.

"That title is not yours to give," he told her. "Nor mine to accept."

"I wanted to thank you," she said with a little more confidence. "For what you did for my husband." When Vincent had confessed Barton, he'd ordered the man to live as he would have lived if they had never crossed paths.

"It was the least I could do." Vincent smiled a sad smile and walked away.

After returning to book to one of the Keep's innumerable libraries, Vincent decided to explore. After a few moments, he came to a study, the sanctuary of a wizard long dead. There was a large portrait behind the desk. The man was broad-shouldered, with dirty brown hair. He was dressed in an outfit that resembled a war wizard's, but trimmed in silver instead of gold. His eyes were a startling, piercing blue. They had a raptor-like quality to them, like they could see through you, right to your soul.

Vincent stared. So this was Erik Rahl, dressed in the garb of his office, in the robes of the Father Confessor. _My grandfather._ To the right of the portrait stood a mannequin, dressed in the black, silver trimmed garment.

He stared at it. _When the woman addressed me by title, it felt right, like it belonged to me._

He remembered Shota's words, from so long ago, "Never forget who you are." _Is this what she meant?_ In this room, Vincent felt himself filled with new life, with new purpose and resolve.

He took off his gloves, letting them fall to the ground. _I will redeem my kind._ He donned his grandfather's robes, **his** robes. _I will bring back honor to the title._ He looked at himself in the mirror, an image of the splendor of ages past.

_I am Vincent Amnell, as well as Vincent Rahl; I am the Father Confessor._


	5. Face to Face

**A/N: There was a typo in the last chapter. I said Erik and Panis Rahl were brothers, but they were father and son, respectively. Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing, it really means a lot.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Seeker, or "Love Song Requiem."**

CHAPTER FIVE: FACE TO FACE

Vincent had made quite a name for himself the past few weeks. The Mother Confessor was good at her job, but even she cannot be everywhere at once, so Vincent decided to help a little. The people were wary of him at first, he _was _a male Confessor, after all. However, it helped Vincent's reputation that none of his confessions were procured by using his power. In time, the people came to trust him. In Aydindril at least, the Father Confessor was no longer feared.

But even though Vincent had finally accepted his birthright, that did not change his goal in life. He would find a way to counter the Confessors' magic, one way or another. Most of the people who had gotten the chance to know him well knew that, and respected him for it.

There was an old grand piano inside the inn's tavern. Every evening, as the sun starts to set, one of the patrons would try their hand at the art of music. Most played small, drunken jingles, to the delight of a drunken audience. It was the one aspect of the inn that every patron shared, by which all were connected…all save one. But that was about to change.

This evening, Vincent would take his turn at the piano. He smiled at the thought. He had thought that the people here would spend their lives in fear of him. But instead, they accepted him. _If only the rest of the world would find it so easy. _Vincent stared at the paper before him; he had thought all day about what he would play. He wanted it to be special, to mean something. He fingered the gold locket around his neck; a memento from so long ago, which to this day still brought him joy and pain. With a sad smile, Vincent began to write.

* * *

Kahlan strolled into _The Dancing Dragon_, her eyes darting to and fro, obviously searching for someone. For the past few weeks or so, she had heard rumors of a male Confessor, the Father Confessor, he was called. Unlike past male Confessors, this one seemed to be a kind, generous, honorable man. She had lost count of the times she visited a person who had petitioned for Confession, only to be told that the issue had been resolved; the Father Confessor had gotten there before her. The people in Aydindril seemed not to fear him. They loved him instead. Just recently, she heard the Father Confessor mentioned by name: Confessor Amnell.

Kahlan remembered the man she had seen here, not so long ago, who also went by that name. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with piercing, raptor-like eyes. _The eyes of a Rahl_. When Kahlan first saw him, she had at first felt great relief; her nephew, a part of her sister, had somehow survived the slaughter on Valeria. Soon, her relief would turn to dread, when she learned that the keeper of the inn had been confessed by the man who had stood before her. She thought she would have to kill her nephew, all that was left of Dennee.

But as far as she could tell, Barton was the only person he confessed. She'd heard stories, that the Father Confessor refused to confess those brought before him, that he would discover the truth through other means. Kahlan was intrigued by this man, the first male Confessor in all of history who did not abuse his power. She wanted to see him again, to speak to him, if she could.

Kahlan approached Barton, the innkeeper.

"Evening, Mother Confessor."

"Barton, where is your Lord Amnell? I wish to speak to him." Barton did not reply. He did not need to, for at that moment a man had stood up on one of the tables to make the an announcement.

"Oi! SHUT UP!" The man waited until everyone in the tavern had quieted down. "Thas' better. Now, As you know, every night, one of us takes it upon himself to entertain the lot a' you. And tonight, that person is none other than the Father Confessor!"

Kahlan's head snapped up at this. She saw him enter the room. He was dressed differently, in black silver-trimmed robes, but it was him.

"Thank you for that stirring introduction, Michael," he said, laughing as he took his place at the piano. A few people laughed with him.

"Yer welcome!" Michael said, raising his glass. The room laughed in earnest. The black-robed man spoke again.

"I wanted to play something for you that was special, something close to my heart. I call it 'Love Song Requiem.' " And so the man began to play, and before long, to sing:

_Emily will find a better place to fall asleep_

_She belongs to fairy tales that I could never be_

_The future haunts with memories that I will never have_

_And hope Is just a stranger wandering how it got so bad_

_I die each time you look away_

_My heart, my life will never be the same_

_This love will take my everything_

_One breath, one touch will be the end of me_

_You could be the final straw that brings me back to earth_

_Ever-waiting airports full of the love that you deserve_

_Wishing I could find a way to wash away the past_

_Knowing that my heart will break, but at least the pain will last_

_I die each time you look away_

_My heart, my life will never be the same_

_This love will take my everything_

_One breath, one touch will be the end of me_

_Emily will find a better place to fall asleep_

_Maybe she will save me in the oceans of her dream_

_And maybe someday love,_

_Maybe someday love._

The room was silent for a full two minutes, then erupted into a clapping frenzy.

Kahlan could not clap; she had seen the man's eyes as he had played, how he had to hold back tears. It had pained him to do this. His pain was not something to clap at. The man stood, smiled, and, after having spotted her, walked over to the Mother Confessor.

"Hi, Aunt Kahlan."

Kahlan smiled. They had never met before, be he considered her family. She found comfort in that.

"I don't even know your name," Kahlan told him.

"It's Vincent," he responded. "Vincent Amnell."

Throwing caution to the winds, Kahlan hugged Vincent fiercely. "I am very glad to have met you, Vincent Amnell."

"And I you."

"May I ask you a question? You don't have to answer." Vincent nodded.

"Who is Emily?" Vincent smiled his sad smile, a feature she was beginning to recognize.

"She was my best friend," he replied after a moment. "I accidentally confessed her when I was nine. It taught me the price of lack of vigilance."

"I'm sorry." Vincent smiled his sad smile again.

"I have so much I want to ask you, but this is not the place. Will stop by the Confessors' Palace tomorrow?" Vincent nodded.

Kahlan and Vincent said their good-byes and parted.

* * *

CONFESSORS' PALACE

"Richard, do you remember those rumors I told you about, the ones about the Father Confessor?" (Richard had arrived with Zedd, Aaron, and Cara two days earlier, to the delight of a surprised Kahlan.)

"Yes," Richard said. "Did you find him?"

Kahlan nodded, a big grin on her face. "I did. His name is Vincent. He's Dennee's son, and he isn't evil!"

Richard was happy that she had found a member of her family, but he had some questions.

"How did he survive?"

"I don't know, but he'll be here tomorrow. I plan to ask him then."

* * *

THE NEXT DAY

Vincent is stopped at the entrance to the Confessor's palace by D'Haran guards. They let him pass after he identified himself as the Mother Confessor's nephew.

He entered, and was announced. Kahlan smiled at him, but he did not return the gesture. He had eyes only for the woman clad in red leather, standing to the left of his uncle. He had seen her face enough in his dreams: he stared into Cara's eyes, into the soul of the woman who murdered his mother.


	6. Confessor's Fury

**A/N: This is shorter than usual(sad, considering most my chapters _are_ short). I'm running low on inspiration, and any ideas you guys might have would be greatly appreciated. Please review.**

CHAPTER SIX: CONFESSOR'S FURY

Richard drew the Sword of Truth from its scabbard, and Cara stepped menacingly towards Vincent. There was a fearful look on Kahlan's face.

"Don't touch him, Cara!" She asked. It was then that Vincent realized why they were being so hostile: he had thrown himself into his power, and he hadn't even noticed. Vincent checked his reflection in the locket: his eyes were black.

Cara ignored Kahlan's warning and lunged at Vincent with her agiel. He easily sidestepped the attack. He ducked, weaved, and dodged as Cara came at him; he could not allow her to touch him, she would be his otherwise. He did not want to confess Cara. No one deserved to have that horror visited upon them, not even the woman who murdered his mother.

Vincent tried to calm himself as he dodged effortlessly, trying to focus, to find that part of himself, the nucleus of control that he always exerted.

Richard wanted to join the battle, but Kahlan held him back.

"He's going to confess her!" Richard shouted as he struggled against her grip.

"If that were truly his intention, he would have done it already." Richard had no response to that.

"Please, Richard."

Richard sheathed his sword, but did not take his eyes off Vincent.

Vincent took a deep breath. His anger cooled, and his eyes were blue again. Cara doubled her efforts to cripple him. But now Cara met resistance; instead of dodging her blows, Vincent began to block them. Cara made to stab Vincent with her agiel, and he grabbed it with his right hand. Cara smiled in triumph…but her smile soon melted. Vincent showed no visible reaction to the agiel. The pain, the torment of its touch never showed on his face, never reached his eyes; he lived with a pain that went far deeper, left greater scars than physical anguish could inflict. He stood as still as stone. Cara was shocked.

Vincent twisted Cara's arm, snapping her wrist; the agiel fell from her grip into his open palm. He jabbed the agiel into her neck, rotating it ever so slightly, so as to further the radiation of pain. Cara did not react. Vincent waited. Finally, she collapsed. Vincent knelt over her, his knee pressed against her back.

"Why did you attack me?" he asked.

"Your eyes went black," Cara responded. "You were going to hurt the Mother Confessor and Lord Rahl."

Vincent shook his head, and turned her over so she could see his face. "I have no reason to harm my aunt, or my uncle," he said softly. Cara raised her eyebrow questioningly.

"But _you_ murdered my mother," Vincent continued, his voice was softer now, but no less menacing. "That alone is reason enough for me to kill you: Do not give me another."

Cara realized then who this man was, whose _son _he was.

"Yes, Lord Rahl," she whispered as she stared into his blackened eyes.


	7. The House of Rahl

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE HOUSE OF RAHL

Three weeks have passed since the incident between Vincent and Cara. Since then, Cara has taken to addressing Vincent as Lord Rahl, as have most of the D'Harans posted at the Confessors' Palace. Not because he is _the_ Lord Rahl, as that title still belongs to Richard. Rather, it is an acknowledgement of his birthright. Vincent, for his part, has neither encouraged nor protested the practice; he does not even acknowledge the Mord-Sith's presence when they cross paths.

Aaron laughed as Vincent bounced him on his knee.

"I think he likes you," a voice said behind him. Vincent turned to see his uncle standing in the doorway. Aaron held his arms out to his father, and Richard smiled as he picked him up. Vincent studied his uncle. He was tall, with broad shoulders and moppy brown hair. His eyes were a sparkling gray, unlike Darken Rahl's blue; there was kindness in them, but steel too. As Vincent watched Richard play with his son, a question occurred to him.

"How did you do it?"

Richard stared at him questioningly.

"How did you convince Kahlan to spare Aaron? More importantly, _why_ did you do it?"

Richard set Aaron down in his crib, ran a hand through his hair, and sat next to Vincent.

"It was not that difficult," Richard said after a moment or two. "I had done it before…" he looked at Vincent. "…With you. It was…easier, because of that, to convince her to spare our son."

Vincent, while hurt his aunt would want him dead, understood her reasoning. He was, however, surprised by Richard. He did not seem the type who covets power, as Darken Rahl had been. _Why would he save me? He didn't even know we were related at the time._

"As for why I did it," Richard continued, "I believe that everyone deserves to live life without the judgment of others. The son of a murderer can choose not to kill, if given the chance. I like giving people that opportunity.

"You, Vincent, are a prime example," Richard said. "Scores of male Confessors before you abused their power used it to serve their own dark purposes. But not you. You chose the right path. That's why I fought for you and my son: I chose to see the good in you."

Vincent gave his uncle a smile, one that was not sad; this was a man he could respect, a man he could fight and die for.

"That is a common misconception," Vincent told Richard. "The first male Confessor was a gifted Rahl." Richard raised an eyebrow.

"He was a decent, honorable man, but his gift and his wizard power could not coexist. The magics warred inside him, until they unhinged his mind. Every male Confessor after him was a victim of his dementia."

Richard smiled ruefully. "You must not think too highly of our family."

"I used to hate everyone with the Rahl name, because of my father's crime against me. But I have learned of late not to be so judgmental."

Richard nodded. "And does your new generosity extend to Cara?"

"I know what she was forced to do, how she was broken to become Mord-Sith. I know that her crime against me was committed in fear of a cruel master; it is the only reason she still breathes."

"Cara is different now. In her freedom, she has begun to resemble the woman she once was. She is Mord-Sith, but she is also human."

"I'll try to remember that."

A moment of silence passed between the two men, then Vincent spoke.

"Uncle Richard…" he began. Richard was surprised for a second, then he smiled.

"Yes?" He asked.

"When you return to D'Hara, I would like to go with you."

"Why?"

Vincent looked at his cousin, who was busy trying to escape from his crib by smacking his doll against the bars.

"Aaron is a male Confessor," Vincent said. "He is harmless now, but when he grows, when his power develops…" Vincent fingered the locket, a pained look flittered over his face. Richard noticed, but said nothing.

"Kahlan is powerful, and wise," Vincent continued. "But the male Confessor differs drastically from the female. She does not understand his power as intricately, as_ intimately _as I do. There can be no better teacher for Aaron than me."

Richard stared at his nephew, then said, "Okay."

"Thank you, uncle."

Just then, Aaron began to cry, and Cara burst into the room with a warmed bottle in her hand.

"It's okay little guy, I have your food right here," Cara said with a smile as she fed the baby. She whirled around when someone cleared their throat behind her. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the two men sitting before her.

"Lord Rahl," Cara said, inclining her head towards Richard.

"Lord Rahl," she said again, inclining her head toward Vincent. Both men continued to stare at her as she fed Aaron: Richard was smiling, and Vincent looked downright confused.

Through the open doorway, the D'Haran recitation of the devotion to the Lord Rahl could be heard.

_Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve; our lives are yours._

Vincent grimaced as the devotion ended.

"You do not approve?" Richard asked.

"The bond enslaves people. How are we any different from the Imperial Order if we treat people so?"

"Under Darken Rahl, the bond may have amounted to litter more than slavery," Richard conceded. "But that is not the bond's true purpose. When Alric Rahl fashioned the spell that created the bond, it was used to protect his people from dream walkers."

"Dream walkers?"

Richard nodded. "Beings with the power to enter someone's mind and control them. Those who swore fealty to the Lord Rahl through the devotion, the spell that animates the bond, are protected from their touch.

"Emperor Jagang is a dream walker; my men are kept safe through the devotion. That is the duty of the Lord Rahl, a duty your father neglected: to protect his people. The Lord Rahl is the people's magic against magic."

Vincent digested this information, then smiled, bowing his head in concession. For the first time in his life, Vincent was truly proud to be counted among the men of his family, in being a member of the House of Rahl.


	8. Vincent Amnell Rahl

CHAPTER EIGHT: VINCENT AMNELL RAHL

"_Emily, I'm going to go downstairs, okay? Don't move."_

"_Yes, Confessor," was her reply._

"_Shota!" Vincent screamed as he sprinted out of his room._

"Ahh!" Vincent thrashed in his bed, kicking up the covers. He bolted upright with a throbbing headache, worse than any he had ever experienced before. The pain was immeasurable, unfathomable; It was as if someone had embedded daggers in his head. The pain refused to subside. Vincent'sthrashing caused him to fall off the bed an onto the marble floor, where he continued to convulse and spasm.

"_You were born for a purpose, Vincent Amnell; you were born to kill Aaron Rahl."_

"Raahhh!" Vincent's eyes blackened, his pupils filled with a crimson glow. Lesions appeared, spreading all over his body. Vincent screamed again in agonizing pain.

"_I have lived most of my life under Shota's protection-"_

"_Shota?" Kahlan asked in disbelief._

"_Yes," Vincent said. It was she who rescued me from Tom who, under my mother's orders, would have killed me."_

"_Why?"_

_Vincent stared at the child in Kahlan's arms. "She intended to use me for a dark purpose, one with which I did not agree."_

Vincent arched his back as the pain sifted through his spine, severing several nerves. In a deep recess of his mind, the part he kept caged, the part he kept under strict emotional control, Vincent was dimly aware of what was happening, and why it was happening. He also knew that he was powerless to stop it. He would soon lose consciousness: he knew that when he woke he would no longer be Vincent Amnell.

The last thing Vincent saw was Emily's dead eyes staring back at him.

Zedd bursts into the bedchamber and snaps a Rada'Han around Vincent's neck.


	9. Gift and Curse

**Sorry it took so long, I was swamped with homework. How many essays can they assign in one week?**

CHAPTER NINE: GIFT AND CURSE

Vincent woke for the fourth morning in a row without any headaches; it was a luxury he would never tire of. It was now three days since Vincent's gift manifested itself, and he was as good as new, thanks to Zedd. The lesions were gone; they had been a manifestation of his gift and disappeared when it was suppressed. He back was fine as well.

Vincent sighed as he stared at himself in the mirror. The one thing Zedd could not heal were his eyes: they still contained a reddish tint.

_They say the eyes are the windows to the soul,_ Vincent thought grimly. _If so, then perhaps my soul is tainted, and my eyes now merely reflect the perversion that has always been within me. _

Vincent shook his head, abandoning that line of thinking. _Dark thoughts lead to dark deeds._

His hand reached up to touch the Rada'Han, his fingers running along its surface. This device,(which looked like a simple gothic accessory), this alone suppressed the gift, and kept his headaches at bay. _How does something so small contain something so powerful, so fluid, so ephemeral as the gift?_

Vincent could feel his gift now, his Han, as Zedd called it. Now that the gift had awakened in him, he was constantly aware of its presence, which was a good thing. A war wizard, like his uncle, could not sense his power. It was called forth through need, much like his Confessor power: he didn't need **two** dangerous magics hidden from his senses.

Vincent inherited Additive magic Darken Rahl, without the Subtractive, which had been gifted to him by the Keeper in return for his oath of service. However, because Vincent's Confessor power was mainly Subtractive, he now possessed nearly equal parts of each magic. He was, in essence, a war wizard.

But Confessor power and the wizard gift do not mix; Erik Rahl had been proof of that. In an attempt to safeguard Vincent from magical repercussions, Zed, using his abilities as a Wizard of the First Order, was able to link his gift to his Confessor power, made one like to the other. This had brought about an unexpected, but welcome, result. Through this link, Vincent could now sense his Confessor's magic as clearly as he could sense and touch his Han: he was no longer a blind Confessor.

"Now that both your gifts are linked," Zedd had told him, "You will be able to sense, and use both with ease. Also, because they are linked, rather than separate, the magics will not vie for dominance inside you, as they did in Erik Rahl."

Vincent responded, "I would hardly call them gifts. They are more a curse than anything else.

Zedd had smiled. "They are both, child. They are always both."

Now fully dressed, Vincent left the Confessor's Palace and made his way to the Wizards' Keep. Ever since his incident, Zedd has instructed Vincent on the use of his gift and, through the link, on the voluntary use of Confession; to train in the use of one was to master the other.

As Vincent made his way through the crowded streets of Aydindril, people stared, and looked away when Vincent caught them. They gave him a berth. Whatever peace he had enjoyed here, whatever acceptance he had gained, it was gone now: they feared him again.

_And with good reason,_ Vincent thought bitterly. _How I must look to them now, a red-eyed demon reigned in only by a Rada'Han. _Vincent pushed those thoughts out of his mind. He would find a way to earn their trust again. He focused instead on the task at hand.

It's like Zedd once told Richard, _"Worry not over what was or will be, see only the task that is."_

Today was a good day. Today was the day the Father Confessor would conjure Wizard's Fire.


	10. Bonded

CHAPTER TEN: BONDED

The searing ball of flame ignited, lingered for a moment, then died as quickly as it had been born.

"You must try harder," Zedd said as he munched on an apple. "The energy to sustain Wizard's Fire must come from inside yourself; you are out of focus."

"I am trying, Zedd," Vincent retorted, with just a touch of anger in his voice. "By the spirits, I am trying. It would be much easier if I didn't have this damned ornament around my neck!" He glowered at Zedd as he fingered the Rada'Han.

"If not for that 'ornament,' as you call it, your headaches would have destroyed you long before now. I know you are anxious to be rid of the Rada'Han, but your training isn't complete: you have yet to pass the final test, the test of pain-"

"I have lived _**my life**_ in pain, Wizard!" Vincent was shouting now. "I have lived this long only through the grace of witch, who raised me only so she could use me for her own nefarious ends. I was raised to be a murderer, my victim none other than my own cousin!"

Vincent's hands begin to shake. "I confessed my best friend, the girl I loved! She is worse than dead, because she chose to befriend me! What pain could you give me, which could even _**begin**_ to match my own?! What-"

A gust of wind, knocked Vincent backwards, and sent him sprawling into a bookcase.

"_Calm down,"_ Zedd said. Vincent shook involuntarily. Zedd's voice had gone deadly soft; the apple lay forgotten at his feet. He seemed to grow in power and majesty. He wasn't Zedd anymore. He was Zeddicus Zu'l Zorander, Wizard of the First Order, the Wind of Death. His gray eyes bored into Vincent's reddish-blue ones.

"You have led a harsh life," he said. "The spirits have not been kind to you, Vincent Amnell. But that does not mean your life is not worth living. Yes, the world fears you, it wishes you did not exist; it does so because of the actions of those who have come before you. It will take much work on your part to prove to the world that it need not fear you. It will be difficult; in life, nothing is ever easy.

"You must take control of your life, Vincent, so that others do not control it for you. And stop yelling at people who are trying to help you!"

Vincent managed a small smile for his teacher. "Sorry, Zedd."

"Quite alright, dear boy, quite alright." Zedd picked up his apple, bit into it, and gestured to Vincent, indicating that he was to try again.

"Now, once more, with _**feeling!**_" (Cookies to anyone who figures out where this reference is from.)

* * *

Vincent returned to the Confessors' Palace exhausted, and in a sour mood; he ached everywhere.

"How did it go?" Richard asked. Vincent grunted his response as he marched past.

"That bad?" he asked Zedd.

"Not really," the wizard replied. "He can do it, if only for a few seconds. He has trouble channeling his Han. The boy's mind is too fettered to preoccupied. If he could learn to focus on the task at hand, then he would pass with flying colors."

"Do you know what's bothering him?"

Zedd thought back to Vincent's outburst earlier. "I know some of the story, but not all."

"Maybe I should talk to him…" Richard mused, but Zedd shook his head.

"He will tell us when he is ready, and not before."

* * *

Vincent took the stairs one step at a time. Just as he was about to enter his room, Aaron began to cry. Sighing, Vincent turned around and went to the baby's room. Upon entering, Vincent could not help but smile at his cousin; his small arm had lodged itself between the bars of his crib as he reached for his favorite doll.

Vincent bent down and gently freed Aaron's arm, and the child stopped crying long enough to flash him a small smile. Vincent handed Aaron his doll and he cooed in delight: Aaron then proceeded to beat Vincent's hand with it. Vincent laughed. He felt free now, lighter somehow, because he knew that no matter what happened, no matter what life threw at him, he could always count on Aaron's smile. The thought comforted him, eased his turbulent mind: it filled him with resolve.

_Shota believes Aaron will destroy all life, but I __**know**__ she's wrong. He will have a harsh life, and there will be many opportunities for to fall…_

Vincent felt a tug on his finger; Aaron was pulling at him with all his strength.

…_but he will not be alone. I will be there to guide him, to protect him._

Vincent thought about Richard and Kahlan, and Zedd. "You have a whole family behind you, little one," he whispered.

_Family._

Vincent thoughts return to Richard and Kahlan. He smiled. _They accepted me, they're __**my family**__ now, too. We are __**bonded**__ now, in more ways than one._

Just then Richard burst into the room.

"What's wrong?" Vincent asked.

"Kahlan and I were strolling through the grounds…and something happened."

"What?"

"I _**felt**_ you," Richard said.

Vincent was confused at first, then Richard's words sank in.

_ Oh Crap._


	11. Reconciliation

CHAPTER ELEVEN: RECONCILIATION

If Vincent had felt alienated before, it was nothing compared to how he felt now. The people of Aydindril stilled fear Vincent, the male Confessor with red eyes; this new development increased that fear.

_How is it possible for me to carry the bond?_ Vincent thought as he walked through the woods on the edge of the city. _The bond is passed down through gifted Rahls, yes, but it also the marker of __**the**__ Lord Rahl, the link through which the D'Haran's are connected to the Master of D'Hara. Is it possible for the bond to exist in two people? Can there be two Lord Rahls?_

Vincent sighed. Neither Zedd nor Richard had been able to give him a satisfactory answer to that question. While his uncle has on occasion abdicated the post of Lord Rahl, passing bond and title to his ancestor Nathan, the only other gifted Rahl, there have never been two at once.

"_We are in uncharted waters,"_ Zedd had said.

Which doesn't help Vincent at all with regaining the people's trust. A red-eyed demon Confessor was bad enough, a red-eyed demon Confessor with all of the D'Haran Empire behind him was even worse.

It did, however, bring about something positive. The servants at the palace, the D'Haran ones at least, were much kinder to Vincent now. They were not so afraid to pass him in the halls, or look him in the eyes when they spoke with him; he found solace in that.

_SNAP._ Vincent's head turned in every direction when he heard the twig break.

_Who else is here?_

Cara emerged from the foliage.

"Lord Rahl," she said, bowing her head.

Vincent relaxed his defensive posture, but only slightly.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Zedd says that it's time to continue your training," Cara replied. "He is waiting for you at the Wizard's Keep."

"How did you know where to find me?"

Cara gave him a confused look. "We always know where to find you, Lord Rahl."

"Right," Vincent said. "I forgot about that." _The bond connects the D'Harans to the Lord Rahl; with that connection, they cans sense him, wherever he may be, and they can find him by following that connection._ Vincent frowned. _I'll never have a moment to myself again._

Noticing his expression, Cara asked, "Is something wrong?"

Vincent smiled mischievously. "No more than usual," he replied.

"Let's go," he said after seeing no visible reaction to his little joke. "We don't want to keep Zedd waiting."

_

* * *

_

Their trek towards the Wizard's Keep was mostly silent, until…

"Lord Rahl, may I speak with you?"

"You _**are**_ speaking to me, Cara." No response. Vincent sighed. _No sense of humor whatsoever._

"Go ahead," he told her.

"I wanted to apologize," she said softly, "for killing your mother."

That caught Vincent off guard. He turned to look at her. She continued.

"I know you could never forgive me…" Vincent could see she was holding back tears; her voice was still soft. "…but I needed to say it anyway."

Vincent had never seen the Mord-Sith this vulnerable before. He thought back to the time when he had seen her with Aaron, the way she smiled at him, cared for him. She obviously loved Richard and Kahlan, she had attacked Vincent his first day at the Palace, because she thought he would harm them.

_She has so much love in her now, she is not the woman she was before… everyone deserves a second chance._

"I will take whatever punishment you see fit to give me," she continued.

That made Vincent blink. He took her face in his hands, and lifted it so she could see his eyes, see that he meant what he was about to say.

"Cara, I forgive you."

The tears Cara had been holding back fell freely now. "Thank you, lord Rahl."

Vincent turned away from her, they had reached the Keep. He stopped just at the entrance.

"Cara?" he called back to her.

"Yes, Lord Rahl?"

"_**Call me Vincent." **_


	12. Confession

CHAPTER TWELVE: CONFESSION

The flames ignited and spread, their tongues igniting the nearby trees, until at last they convalesced into a tight, searing ball. It hung suspended for a moment, its many flames ever moving, fluid and ephemeral. Then it died, but slowly, winking out of existence.

Vincent sighed as he watched the Wizard's Fire fade away.

"It lasted longer this time," Zedd noted as he extinguished and restored the burned trees. "You have improved."

"Though apparently not enough," Vincent responded.

"You are not concentrating. Have you not succeeded in clearing your mind?"

"More or less."

Zedd raised an eyebrow. "Something still troubles you? What?"

"You know what."

Zedd thought back to his previous lessons with Vincent. After his little outburst after his first attempt at conjuring Wizard's Fire had failed, Zedd had decided that it was time for a little "talk" with the young Confessor.

And so Zedd learned what troubled him: how Shota saved him from death, so that he would grow to kill his cousin. How he confessed his best friend, the girl he "liked" liked, at the age of nine. How he felt he could never truly be part of a family, truly be loved, because of what he is. How he has vainly searched for a way to reverse the damage he did to his friend. He has overcome all those obstacles…save one.

"Put it out of your mind, child," Zedd said softly. "There is nothing you can do for her."

"I don't believe that."

"You will spend the rest of your life searching in vain."

"That is my choice to make."

* * *

"How did he do?" Kahlan asked.

"Better, but he is still not focusing," Zedd replied.

"What's wrong?" Richard asked.

"He still thinks he can free Emily from his touch."

Silence.

"There is nothing he can do?" Kahlan finally asked. "We freed Richard from a Confessor's control."

"Through a quillon," Zedd said. "But that can't help him without harming him."

"How?"

"Vincent is a Wizard-Confessor," Zedd said. "The last time a quillon was used to siphon their power, the quillon shattered and drove its subject insane."

"Erik Rahl," Richard said nodding.

"Precisely," Zed continued. "Vincent has too much power for the quillon to contain. Even if that were not a problem, if I could construct a quillon capable of distinguishing Confessor Power from the Wizard Gift, Vincent's powers are now linked; to draw one is to draw the other, and we are left with the same problem."

"So Vincent can do nothing to help her?" Kahlan asked.

"Short of suicide, no," Zedd said.

Silence again.

* * *

Vincent sat in his room, staring at the locket he wore around his neck, rather, at the picture _inside_ the locket. A friend of his, an aspiring artist, had drawn him and Emily together, and Shota had shrunk it so it would fit inside the locket. They were sitting under a tree, and Emily was smiling, as was he.

_I will find a way to free you,_ Vincent thought. _I __**will.**_

Aaron began to cry. Vincent stood and made his way through the marble hallways.

He stopped a little ways off from the door to Aaron's room: it was open.

_Richard, Zedd, and Kahlan are downstairs, and Cara is with Benjamin… but there is someone in there…_

Aaron continues to cry.

Vincent charges into the room. A dark-robed figure stood over Aaron's crib, dagger in hand. The figure turned as it sensed Vincent's entrance.

Vincent wasted to no time. He tapped into his power, his eyes went black. Confessor Amnell strode forward, grabbing the assailant by the neck and dragging it away from the crib. Now holding the attacker against the wall, Vincent released his power. There was no thunder with no sound, but Confessor Amnell knew now not to expect it.

"Who are you?" Vincent growled. "Who sent you!?"

A small gasp escaped the robed figure.

"Answer me!" the Confessor ordered.

"_**Vincent?" a small feminine voice asked.**_


	13. Seeker's Wrath

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: SEEKER'S WRATH

_**Cut.**_ _Uppercut, down swing, sidestep._

_**Cut.**_ _Slash, side-cut, spin._

_**Cut. **__High guard parry, thrust.___

The Sword of Truth fell upon its enemies in a crimson blur, the Seeker lost in its magic, in the dance with death. A man charged forward to challenge the Seeker. He was robed in black; his face was hidden by a hood. There was a curved dagger in his hand, raised up. The Seeker effortlessly dodged the man's attack, and crushed the pommel of the Sword of Truth into the man's neck, crushing his esophagus. Robed men writhed in pain as Zedd's Wizard's Fire touched them; others betrayed their comrades after suffering Kahlan's touch. Yet another lay at the mercy of Cara's agiel.

The robed assassins had come out of nowhere. Richard and Kahlan had been about to turn in when the screaming began. Each grabbing their weapons, they headed back to the main hall, only to find the Confessor's Palace under attack. Luckily, Cara, having gathered a battalion of the First File, was there to greet the enemy. Determined to drive these attackers out of the Palace, Richard and Kahlan joined the fray.

_**An hour has passed, yet still the enemy does not wither.**_

_They're relentless,_ thought Richard as he slashed and cut his way through the invading force. He looked around and saw Kahlan confess one man and kill another. Zedd stood in a corner, projecting fire with one hand and holding a peach in the other. Cara and Benjamin stood back to back, each holding their own. Richard noticed that someone was missing.

_Where's Vincent?_

The last time Richard saw him, he was marching up to his room on one of the upper floors.

_There's no way he can't hear all this fighting… which means he's probably fighting as well upstairs._ An epiphany slams into Richard: _If these guys are trying to get upstairs, then they could only be after one thing…my son._

_**That got Richard angry.**_

He raced towards the steps that would lead him upstairs, but he found his way blocked by five men. The Seeker brought his sword up, and held it before him.

"Blade, be true this day," he whispered. The Seeker immersed himself in the Sword's magic, in its rage: he became one with the dance with death.

_**Cut.**_ _Uppercut, down swing, sidestep._

_**Cut.**_ _Slash, side-cut, spin._

_**Cut. **__High guard parry, thrust.___

Fire danced in the Seeker's eyes as he sprinted towards his son.

* * *

"_**Vincent?" a feminine voice asked.**_

Vincent froze. Although it had been years since he'd heard it, Vincent recognized the voice.

"Emily?" he asked. The figure's hand moved up to remove her hood, revealing the all too familiar face that had been hidden behind it.

Vincent took a step back, releasing her. He was torn inside: he was torn between rejoicing over finding his friend (which he had planned to do as soon as he found a way to help her), and anger at the fact that she had just tried to kill his cousin.

"Vincent, what are you doing here?" Emily asked.

Vincent ignored the question. Instead, he issued her a command, "You will not kill Aaron."

Emily shook her head. "I'm sorry, Vincent, but I have to do this."

That stopped Vincent cold. Emily had disobeyed an order from her Confessor, which could only mean one thing…

…_she wasn't confessed._

Noticing Vincent's apparent distress, Emily decided to make a break for it. She took and dagger and flung it at Vincent, embedding it in his gut; Vincent fell to the ground in front of the crib; Aaron was crying.

_**As Emily turned to flee, she ran into the embrace of an enraged War Wizard.**_


	14. Finis

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: FINIS

"_I'm sorry Vincent, but I have to do this." That stopped Vincent cold. Emily had disobeyed an order from her Confessor, which could only mean one thing…_

…_**she wasn't confessed.**_

_Noting Vincent's apparent distress, Emily decides to make a break for it. She takes her dagger and flings it at Vincent, embedding it in his gut; Vincent falls to the ground in front of the crib; Aaron is crying._

With a cry of pain, Vincent removed the dagger from himself, tossing it aside. He presses his hand against his wound, and it comes back bloody. He puts his hand back on the wound, in an attempt to apply pressure and stop the bleeding.

Emily, his best friend, had stabbed him. His best friend, the woman he quite possibly loved, had tried to kill him. That woman had also tried to kill Aaron, who was still crying. The woman Vincent had spent his life mourning, in anguish over his one mistake, the one action that had cost her her life. Or so he'd thought.

_How did she regain her will? _Vincent wondered foggily. _How did she free herself from my Confession? Who sent her here?_ These questions and more ran through his mind.

Vincent had thought that Emily would escape, leaving him to die, and none of his questions would be answered. But then he uncle stood before the doorway, sword in hand, its magic dancing in his eyes: coiled fury waiting to strike.

_But in this moment,_ Vincent thought,_ he is more than the Lord Rahl, more than the Seeker. In this moment, he is a father protecting his son. _Vincent knew that in that state of mind, his uncle would not let Emily live, and they needed whatever information she could provide.

But Vincent knew his uncle would not bow to logic in this. It was the Wizard's Second Rule: Passion rules Reason. He could not reach his uncle as Vincent, he had to do it as the Father Confessor, an authority which, the Mother Confessor notwithstanding, even the Seeker had to obey.

But Vincent could not move without risking further injury, and while he sat there, helpless, Richard's sword came ever closer to Emily's head.

_This is too important, I can't let him kill her!_ Vincent closed his eyes, blocking out the world around him. In his mind, there was only one thought: take away the pain. Every other thought that normally plagued Vincent's mind was no longer there. He had a family that loved him. Emily had never truly been confessed, so he was not responsible for the taking of her life. He was a Confessor, yes, but his uncle and Kahlan had shown him that Confessor does not mean monster. Vincent had finally conquered his demons.

With that knowledge came peace, a serenity that was essential to conjuring magic. That knowledge cleared Vincent's mind, allowing him full control of his abilities at last.

The hand over Vincent's wound began to glow. From it, ebbs of magic flowed, curing him of his affliction. With his Han coursing through him, Vincent stood, taking the dagger with him.

With lightning speed, Vincent parried the blow that would have decapitated Emily. Richard looked at Vincent in anger, staring into his iridescent eyes. It was then that Richard noticed the change in his nephew. He was not Amnell, the Father Confessor, or Rahl, the Wizard. He was Amnell-Rahl, the Wizard-Confessor.

They stood before each now, Seeker and Wizard-Confessor, neither moving inch, each refusing to be the first to withdraw, their weapons crossed before them.

**It was thus that Kahlan found them. **

* * *

"What the _hell_ is going on here?" Kahlan asked, staring at the two men. She looked between the two of them, finally settling her gaze on her husband. "Richard?"

"Where's Zedd?" Richard asked, keeping his eyes on Vincent, who was still standing between him and Emily, the dagger between the Sword and its prey.

"Taking care of the stragglers, we've all but eliminated them. Answer my question."

Vincent answered her. "This woman tried to kill Aaron. When I discovered her, she injured me and tried to run, but Richard stopped her. I just now prevented him from killing her."

"Richard, is this true?" He nodded.

"We need to find out who it is that wants Aaron dead, and why," Vincent continued. "Since the other assailants are now dead, Emily is the only one who can give us that information."

_Emily… why does that name sound familiar to me? _Kahlan wondered. Then it came to her.

"Vincent," she asked softly. "Is she the one?"

The Father Confessor nodded, then added. "Assuming that she will not tell us anything willingly, she must then be… persuaded." He stared at Kahlan, pleading: he didn't want to be the one that did it.

Kahlan raised an eyebrow. "But I thought she was already…" Vincent shook his head.

Kahlan stared a moment, then nodded, acquiescing. "Richard, put the Sword away."

Richard did nothing for a moment, internally fighting down the Sword's magic. After a moment or two, he finally sheathed the Sword of Truth.

Kahlan steps forward, her hand outstretched.

"NO!" Channeling a burst of strength that surprised Vincent, Emily tore herself from his grip. She began to step backward: each step was a step away from the Mother Confessor. There was fear in Emily's eyes.

"No! I will not lose myself again! Please anything but that! Please!"

Emily was cowering now, in a fetal position near Aaron's crib.

Emily's reaction had confirmed what he already knew: she been confessed before.

_But why isn't she confessed now?_

Kahlan continued making her way towards Emily. Her hand had been inches away when Vincent screamed, NO!" and tackled her to the ground.

"What is wrong with you?" Kahlan demanded.

"Look," Vincent said, pointing.

Aaron's tiny hand had reached out through the bars to touch Emily; his eyes were black.

Emily was on her knees in front of the crib.

"_**Command me, Confessor,"**_She pleaded.

"Well," Richard said. "That was unexpected."

* * *

Zedd, Cara, Richard, Kahlan, Vincent and Emily were all gathered in the main hall of the Confessor's Palace. Kahlan sat in her throne-like chair.

"Who sent you?" she asked. "Why did you try to kill my son?"

"Where is he?" Emily asked frantically. "Where is my lord?!"

"Your lord is safe," Vincent responded. "Despite your attempt to take his life."

Emily was crying now. "I'm sorry! I would never hurt him! I can't! I swear!"

"I know you wouldn't," Vincent said. "But the people who want him dead are still out there. Help us protect him. It would please him to know that you are protecting him."

"Yes… I'll do anything!"

"Then answer the Mother Confessor's questions."

Emily nods, and Kahlan asks again.

"Who sent you? Why did you try to kill my son?"

It continued this way for some time. Kahlan would ask a question, and Emily would answer to the best of her ability. About fifteen minutes into the interrogation, Vincent pulled Zedd aside.

"When I confronted Emily, I ordered her to not take Aaron's life, but she refused. She wasn't confessed anymore; that's why Aaron was able to confess her? How is it possible that my hold on her was broken?"

"It **isn't** possible," Zedd said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Unless…"

"Unless what?"

Zedd snapped his fingers. "When I combined your Han with your Confessor Power, it created a melding of magics not seen in this world for ages. It created a _**new**_ kind of gift. Neither wizard or confessor, yet both at the same time. This new gift cancelled out anything the old gift did." Zedd sighed contentedly. "I'm a genius."

Vincent nodded, taking in this new information. The two men turned their attention back to Kahlan.

"Thank you," Kahlan told Emily. "You have been very helpful."

"May I see my lord now?"

"No. You will never see him again." Emily began to hyperventilate. A few seconds later her gave out.

* * *

Richard's fists were shaking.

"Shota has interfered with our lives for the last time!" He exclaimed. "When I get my hands on her…"

"You are not going to do anything," Vincent told him.

Look, I know she raised you-"

"That's not the reason. _**I**_ will deal with Shota." Richard stared at his nephew.

"Shota did not love me. She raised me in the hopes that I would grow to be her perfect assassin; the ideal tool to employ against the infant Rahl. I wonder now what she would have done to _**me**_, the last male Confessor, had I ever agreed to her dark design.

"_**No, I will face Shota, and I will show her what happens when you threaten my family."**_

* * *

Wizard's Fire burned through the swatches of marshlands and forests of Agaden Reach.

"Look who's back!" Samuel exclaimed with delighted squeals. "It's the ittle biddy baby-" Samuel screamed as the supernatural fire consumed him.

Vincent Amnell Rahl sought out the sorceress with his mind: after years of living with her as her ward, the Wizard-Confessor had grown attuned to the feel, the presence of her mind.

He found her at last in her den, peering into her scrying bowl.

"Hello, Vincent," Shota said with looking up at him. "I have been expecting you."

"Then you know why I am here."

"You will not kill me; you do not have the strength. I have seen it. You cannot kill the only mother you've ever known, who's had only your best interests at heart."

"You rely too much on your Sight," Vincent told her calmly. "The future is not written. And you are not my mother. My mother died eighteen years ago."

"The Seeker and the Mother Confessor have poisoned you against me, child. Do not let them control you."

"The only person who has ever tried to control me is you," Vincent said as he stepped forward.

"What are you doing?" Shota asked, a worried expression crossing her face.

Vincent ignored the question. His hand enclosed itself around Shota's neck, and he released his power.

"Command me, Confessor," she pleaded.

"From this day forth, you are to use your magic for the betterment of mankind, gifted and ungifted. You will never again use it to cause harm. You will leave my family alone."

"I will, I swear it! Is my lord pleased?"

Vincent turned away from Shota, with Zedd's lesson running through his mind. _**Take control of your life, Vincent, before others do it for you.**_

Vincent smiled as he made his way home. _My life is my own; and I will live it as I see fit._


End file.
